


My Heart Got Carried Away

by AndreaLyn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 20:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21151742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: The alien world creeps inside Alex and gives a voice to his darkest thoughts, but not everyone in Roswell is willing to let him go unchecked.





	My Heart Got Carried Away

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to spooky Halloween, even if it's an AU based on the Mimi quote. There are off-screen character deaths, so be warned.

_“We aren’t meant to touch things from another world, Alex. The other world creeps into us and makes us ugly inside.”_

* * *

If you put a frog in boiling water, it will jump out before it can die. It knows the danger it’s in, recognizes it, and makes an escape plan to avoid it. If you put that same frog in normal water and begin to heat it up _slowly_, allowing it to become comfortable with the temperature, then it won’t notice until it’s too late and nothing can be done.

When Alex Manes is seventeen years old, he kisses Michael Guerin.

That day, the water begins to warm. Their bodies tangle together and Alex slides his fingertips over broad expanses of skin waiting for him, like he can soak up Michael Guerin from mere touch. In the toolshed, he fucks Michael twice, gets Michael’s mouth on his dick, and when they’re done, Alex hasn’t had enough.

He’s greedy for it, hungrier than he’s been in years. When his father bursts into the shed, takes a hammer to Michael’s hand and sends him running, Alex doesn’t hesitate when he charges after him. He finds Michael before he can get to his truck, grabbing him and hauling him in close, kissing Michael again as he presses him up against the truck.

Alex doesn’t stop to think about the blood on Michael’s hand as he grabs at Alex’s neck, staining him with a bloody handprint. He doesn’t think about the fact that Michael’s blood is all over his face. He doesn’t even think about the fact that after that violence, something in him seemed to switch on, like a piece of him that had been submerged in darkness is finally floating up.

Michael whines when Alex drifts too far away from the kiss, which sends a heady rush through him as he begins to realize what kind of power he could have over this boy.

Later that summer, Alex is coerced by his father to go overseas to pick new battles further away from his father. Still, he refuses to go before he can make a promise to Michael that although he might be leaving him, he’s not intending to break up with him.

They meet up in the toolshed again, where the droplets of Michael’s blood haven’t been fully cleaned up. One day, they’ll do something about his father, but right now, Alex wants him available as a resource in the event that Alex will need him. Michael’s hand is bandaged thickly, but the grief is what Alex first notices before he even sees the physical malady. 

“I did something terrible,” Michael admits, when Alex tries to draw him in for a kiss. He resists and tries to pull away from Alex, but that’s not something that Alex will tolerate again.

This time he reaches out and grabs Michael by the waist, pulling him in. “What?” he asks. “Whatever it is, Michael, I can help.” 

“You’re leaving me,” Michael spits out, staring at him incredulously. “You can’t help me.”

“What made you think that I would leave without making you mine one last time?” Alex asks him. He can feel something changed in Michael, but he can’t seem to feel it in himself. Grabbing Michael by the shirt, he bears him in against the worktable and pins him there, kissing him messily, dropping possessive and angry bitemarks all over his neck. 

Michael lets out a ragged whimper, but he doesn’t push Alex away. 

“Good boy,” Alex praises, and when Michael reacts with a full body shiver, he knows exactly what it is that he needs to do in order to keep Michael here with him. He wants this so badly, and he doesn’t want to let his father take this from him.

He decides, then and there, that Alex won’t let him.

He might have taken Michael’s hand and he might be sending Alex off to fight, but he can’t stop Alex from having this. He’ll take advantage of it one last time here, and then when he goes, he plans to make sure Michael knows that there aren’t enough seas or continents in the world to wedge between them. Alex intends to keep them together, no matter what. 

Alex kisses his way back to Michael’s mouth, grabbing a handful of his curls as he bears in, kissing him as hard as he can. “Alex,” Michael mumbles, breathing heavily. “My hand, I can’t…”

“I’ll take care of everything, don’t you worry. You’ll make me happy, so long as you do everything I say,” Alex promises. “Tell me you understand? Say you do?”

He needs Michael to offer permission, but when Michael nods, it gives Alex the kind of control and leeway that he’d been desperate for. He only realizes how badly he wants it when he gets it, and it sets something off in his head, like a frantic push. There’s no wariness like there’d been the first time. When Alex tugs at Michael’s jeans, it’s with sure and steady motions, popping the button and yanking the zipper down. 

Alex slides to his knees as his palms Michael’s hips, reverently sliding them over warm skin as he pushes his boxer-briefs down, taking Michael’s cock in his mouth for the first time. The other night in the toolshed had been a fumbling exploration of one another’s bodies, thinking they had all the time in the world.

They know better now.

Alex is going to have to make sure he proves to Michael that they don’t have to be over, even if they’re going to be apart. He’s slow and teasing with his mouth, curls his tongue over the head of Michael’s cock as he learns how Michael likes it. He learns how he cries, how he grips the edge of the workstation behind him when Alex sucks, then exhales with a hum, and how when Michael comes, his warning comes two seconds too late to prevent the mess on Alex’s lips.

Licking it off, using his thumb to rub away the last drops of come, Alex rests back on his haunches and feels _powerful_ in a way he never has before. There’s something new running through his veins, and Alex begins to wonder if maybe all this time, the only reason he’s been as powerless as he has is because he’s been ignoring the assets available to him.

Hundreds of hypotheticals circle his mind as he wipes away the last of Michael’s come with the pad of his thumb. 

Alex bends down and helps Michael with his pants, sliding them back on. When he gets back to his lips, he ducks in for a slow kiss, the sort that feels like he could drown in it. “Tell me what happened,” he asks again, now that Michael is malleable and content and blissful.

Michael breathes in, then out, like he’s keeping time. 

“I have a secret.”

“So did I,” Alex agrees. “And then I came out.”

Michael gives a wry laugh and when he opens his eyes, the pupils are large, fixed on Alex. He looks like he’s been drugged in the very best of ways. “It’s a different secret. If I tell you, are you going to keep me safe?”

“You’re the only thing in the world I would,” is Alex’s vow.

Michael’s gaze slips to the side, where he focuses on the guitar in the corner of the room. It begins to float from the ground, up into the air, then down again. “I’m an alien, Alex,” he says, as if Alex has coaxed the words out of him, like a pied piper, “and I’ve done something terrible.”

“Tell me.”

Michael does, but by the end of Michael’s confession, Alex’s sympathy for Liz and Rosa has taken a backseat to another more pressing thought. He thinks about Michael, about his powers. He thinks about their connection, and he thinks about what it is that Michael will be able to do for him, for them, while he’s gone.

Together, they could make Roswell better, and then when Alex comes home, they can be _happy_. They can be together.

The water continues to boil and Alex doesn’t even notice.

“I’ll make sure everything is all right, Michael. Don’t worry,” he soothes, a hand stroking through Michael’s curls as he holds him tight. “I’m going to make sure that you and I take care of one another.”

* * *

It's ten years later and the drive back to Roswell feels like she’s arriving home to a completely new city. Maybe she doesn’t belong or maybe the city’s changed, but it feels _different_ in a way she can’t put her finger on.

It's an uneventful drive back, and the first thing she sees downtown are the weathered posters asking if anyone knows the whereabouts of Kyle Valenti. She’d only been gone for a year when he’d gone missing and the trail has seemingly run cold.

It looks like no one’s had the heart to take down the posters, though. 

Roswell’s a different place than the one she’d left. Her father talks about it like there’s a persistent and dark evil that lingers over it, but she’s not sure how much of that is superstition and how much of that is fact. What she does know is that the people she’s cared about are gone. Alex has gone overseas to fight someone else’s war, Kyle’s been missing, and the last she heard, Max and Isobel had gone on their own cross-country road trip to look for their family.

With the exception of her father and Maria, Roswell is full of strangers and acquaintances that she’d rather not spend her time with.

It’s so good to see her Dad, though, and she hugs him as tightly as she can, telling him how much Liz has missed him. With the anniversary of Rosa’s death soon, she knows that the Crashdown is liable to become a dangerous place, and she wants to be here for him. She hasn’t been for ten years and she regrets it, even though she’ll never regret leaving to get her degrees. 

“Stay out of sight, _mija_,” her father warns her when she finally lets him out of her arms. “I don’t want you downstairs tonight.”

“I was going to go to the Pony,” Liz admits, because the reason she’s back is Maria. There’d been a text from her pleading for Liz to return to Roswell, because something was going on and she didn’t know if she could look into it on her own.

The exact words were, _I don’t know if I have the heart_.

So she’d called Liz, to be her heart. 

Arturo doesn’t look convinced, but he also knows Liz well enough to know that she’s going no matter what. He sighs and opens a nearby drawer, placing a rectangular object in her hands. Frowning, she stares at it. “A taser?”

“Sheriff Valenti hasn’t been able to hire many people who will stay,” he warns. “You need to take care of yourself. Take it. Use it, even if you’re not sure you should.” The unspoken comment being that he’d rather her be arrested and safe than dead.

“Dad, what happened to Roswell?” Liz demands.

It’s only been ten years. How could things have changed so much in less than a decade and where was everyone? She’d tried to reach out to Max when she’d come back, but he’d never responded to her emails and at this point, she’s afraid to ask. 

“It changed. It got darker,” Arturo says quietly. “Something like a storm washed over this town and made it the place it is now.” He gives her a concerned look, but with a kiss to her temple, she also hears the release he gives her.

Maybe he knows that trying to keep Liz in one place is impossible, because when her mind’s made up, she’s going to do whatever she wants. 

“Be safe,” Arturo pleads. “I can’t lose another daughter.”

“And I would never do that to you,” Liz promises, squeezing both his hands in her own. “I promise, Dad, I will be back tonight as soon as I’m done talking to Maria. Whatever is happening out there, I promise I won’t get in the middle of it.”

He doesn’t look like he believes her, which is all the more reason that Liz needs to make sure she doesn’t break her father’s heart.

* * *

His bags are packed, ready to go, but Alex has a phone call he needs to make before he gets on his flight. There are things that require dealing with before he returns, and before he gets into the air, Alex wants to make sure that their plans are in place. 

With a few hours before he heads to his first stop, he digs out one of his burner phones from the depths of a drawer and heads out to a new location to call home. 

“Hello?” Michael’s sleepy voice is the best thing that Alex has ever heard.

He lets it wash over him and Alex reminds himself why he’s doing this. It’s so they can be together, and everyone who challenges their happiness gets exactly what they deserve.

“Michael,” Alex says over the phone, his voice steady and calm. “My father has been sniffing around Foster Ranch.” He glances over his shoulder as he bows his head, his tone sweet and soft, sounding like a lost boy who needs to be protected and cared for. “I think it’s time for you to protect me. For you to protect us from him.”

There’s silence on the line. 

Alex wonders if Michael is finally breaking free of the control that Alex exerts over him – using his love, his words, his body, his kisses. Years ago, he’d touched Michael and he’d been given a chance to understand the depths of the darkness within him and what he could do. Now, it’s time to take out the bogeyman that still haunts his dreams.

He has to wonder if Michael’s silence is him being unsure or if it’s simply Michael trying to think of the many ways he can take this revenge. 

Then, predictably, Michael says, “What do we need to do?”

He says _we_, but it’s him. Michael is the hammer that enacts Alex’s vengeance on the ones who’ve wronged the both of them over the years, but this is the big fish to fry. They’ve both been waiting to take their revenge on Jesse Manes and it’s finally time.

“Make sure that he’s isolated. When I come home, I’ll help and then we’ll never have to worry about him again.”

The soft hitch in Michael’s breath is a promise that he’s on board with the plan. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I’ll see you soon, and then you and I are going to take care of it, so I can protect you.”

“So you can protect us. We’re setting ourselves up for our future, Michael. Don’t forget that.”

No matter what they have to do in order to secure their safety, Alex knows that they’ll do it. If Michael wavers, then Alex can reach into his core and pull out that steady strength he has that guides him, as straight as an arrow. Alex is the shepherd, Michael is his flock, and he intends to lead him to safety and to their home.

It's only a shame how much blood they have to spill on the journey there, but it’s worth it, for what they’ll have.

* * *

The Wild Pony is unearthly quiet for a bar at ten at night.

Liz almost worries that she’d come when they’re closed, but there’s a few barflies sitting in the corner. Maria’s attentive to them, even though with only a few of them, there’s not much to do. What’s really odd is that the people that used to hang around here illegally in high school are nowhere to be seen.

Liz never thought that she’d miss the likes of Hank and Wyatt, but she does.

“Liz, you’re here,” Maria says, rushing to her side and tugging on her elbow to drag her back behind the counter. “Thank god, I really didn’t think you’d be able to get out here tonight.”

“Dad didn’t want me to come, but he knows better than to try and stop me,” Liz replies, but she’s distracted. “Maria, what’s going on? Why are there so few people here?” She has to wonder if there’s a curfew or something else going on, which would explain why the streets are so empty. 

When she turns back to look at Maria, the fretful look in her eyes has only grown worse. She’s watching the bar anxiously, like she’s worried someone’s going to be there. Liz has seen that look infrequently, and it’s usually from someone who’s trying to run from something in their past. 

What could Maria be trying to run from?

“Who are you looking for?”

“I need to make sure Guerin isn’t here.”

Liz stares at her in confusion. “Michael Guerin?” she echoes, not sure why Maria seems so _scared_ of him. True, he’s always had a temper, but she remembers him as the quiet boy with anger issues and impeccable grades. He’d seemed all bark and no bite, but the way Maria is acting, it looks like he may have developed new teeth.

She nods, but luckily it doesn’t seem like Roswell’s troublemaking miscreant is haunting the stools. Once Maria’s done her check, she tugs Liz with her to the end of the bar, pouring them both two shots of tequila apiece. Liz stares at the shot glasses, stunned, because it might be her first night back, but that seems a little excessive.

“Maria, what…”

Her best friend knocks back the first one before Liz can even get the question out. 

“Okay,” Liz says, wondering what Guerin could have done to spook Maria enough that she’s knocking tequila back like it’s water. “How about you tell me what’s been going on?”

She does.

Maria starts by telling Liz about the fact that what she’s about to say can’t go anywhere. Her tale starts with Kyle Valenti’s disappearance, then moves to their other high school acquaintances. She talks about Hank and Wyatt, all the assholes who gave them a hard time when they were younger. Liz is willing to write it all off as coincidence until Maria tells her the rest of the story and the list of names of those who have vanished keeps going. 

At first, Liz doesn’t believe it. 

“It’s been years, they’ve been gone years, and he’s the only one left,” Maria says quietly. “Liz, I think something is going on and I don’t think it’s what everyone wants to believe. These are just accidents.”

“You think Michael Guerin is a serial killer,” Liz says the words out loud, just so Maria can hear what she’s saying.

Maria nods, tentatively. “I do, but…”

Liz wraps her hand around the shot glass, not sure what Maria could possibly be thinking that would make her look so wary and worried. It’s not going to be good, she knows that, but Liz figures that her day is already ruined, she might as well hear the rest.

“Kyle, the football team, the Manes boys…”

Liz has a sinking feeling in her stomach that she knows where this is going. If you look at the pattern of who’s been going missing and who’s not around, it might point to one person getting revenge for some old high school beefs. The trouble is, Kyle, the football team, and the Manes boys hadn’t tormented Michael throughout high school. 

“Michael might be doing this, but I don’t think he’s doing it for himself. I can’t bring myself to ask him, Liz. I can’t force myself to ask our friend if he’s making Michael to kill people for him, because I think that I’m right.”

Liz takes it back.

Two tequila shots is nowhere near enough for this sort of news.

* * *

Alex returns home with little fanfare set aside for him. There’s no parade, there’s no lauding and praise, but that’s all right. He’s had a busy (and productive) few days with Michael and now he’s arrived at his high school reunion. The first thing he sees are the memorials for several of their classmates taken far too soon. The high school athletes who had tormented Alex, the students who had deliberately outed him and taunted him for it, but of course, nothing had been suspicious about their deaths.

They were all car accidents, suicides, incidents of bad luck that happened to befall them. Of course, if you also had an alien who could move things with his mind on your side, they were also murders, but no one needed to know about that. 

Max and Isobel might have said something, but they’re comfortable in their pods. _Safe_, he’d convinced Michael, until Project Shepherd had been completely dismantled. He’d made the argument years ago and now he has full control over Michael Guerin, without any outside influence. 

Alex sips his drink as he stares up at the screen with a fiercely determined look on his face, knowing that with Jesse out of the way, the job isn’t done, but he can spare a moment to feel _accomplished_. 

Jesse Manes had died in a tragic accident days ago. He’d been found on the floor of his toolshed, bleeding internally and externally. He’d had a brain aneurysm and had smacked his head on the worktable on his way down. Flint had found him, but it had been too late for an ambulance.

He'd relayed the news to Alex, who’d done his level best to pretend like he gave a damn. He didn’t kick his heels together in celebration, so at least there’s that. 

Speaking of the alien in question, there he is looking as handsome as ever at the entrance.

Alex crosses the room when he sees Michael arrive, his eyes fixed on Alex. It’s only been hours since they were together, and even though they spoke almost every day, the sight of Michael always makes something in Alex’s heart leap up. He’s at Michael’s side quickly, and it’s almost like a drug that hits his system the moment he touches Michael.

It's like he doesn’t remember how much he’s missing it until he gets his hands on him, and then something dark and blissful and all-encompassing sinks back into Alex and makes him feel right again.

“How do you feel, baby?” Alex murmurs as he strokes his fingers over Michael’s chest, taking his time to splay them over his heart, peppering kisses to his neck. The soft sound of mewling pleasure from Michael tells Alex that he’s got him right where he wants him. He cards his fingers through Michael’s hair, deciding that now is the perfect time for them to move onto the next target.

It hasn’t been very long since Jesse, which is breaking the rules. Alex is smart, but Michael is a genius, and he’s the one who’s going to protect them in case something happens. They usually allow for months between incidents, just to throw anyone off the scent in case suspicions begin to grow, but it’s different now. With them both in town, they can be each other’s alibi. They’ll h have the help of some doctored video footage, but Alex can do that. 

With Michael’s help, Alex can do anything.

Besides, it’s not like they have a choice. They’re going to have to break the rules they set up together, but they don’t really have many options. If they let this threat go unmatched, then they risk their lives going up in smoke.

“Noah’s been asking questions about your sister again,” Alex sighs, so disappointed in the man. “I think it’s time we do something about it, isn’t it?”

He slides his palms over Michael’s torso, down to his hips to hold him possessively tight, his fingertips making the most interesting little bruise marks. Michael rocks into Alex’s touch with an outward, audible gasp. While they’ve seen each other, no one’s seen them in public, and Alex watches darkly as he takes note of the people eyeing them with disgust and disdain.

They’ll get their turn, he knows. 

Right now, he pulls Michael in a little closer, kissing him with the slow and possessive touch of a man who needs to remind his lover exactly why he does everything he does for him. He lets go of the hold he has on Michael, releasing his grip on his cheek, though he stays in close to brush the tip of his nose against Alex’s cheek, letting his gaze slide over Michael’s face.

“What are we going to do about him?”

“There’s supposed to be a storm,” Michael murmurs quietly. “Maybe Noah’s car will break down in the wrong place. He’s got an appointment with me later this week. All kinds of accidents happen to people around here with their cars.”

“It can’t possibly be the mechanic,” Alex quips, squeezing Michael’s ass as he hauls him in to rock their hips together. “He’s the best thing Roswell’s got going.”

He can hear the disgruntled chatter around him, but Alex tucks them away in his mind.

They’re for later, and they have a prize in their sights.

“Do it,” he gives the order, the same as he’s given every time there’s been a problem in their path since they were seventeen.

And, just like when they were seventeen, Michael stares at him with adoration and makes him feel _young_ again. “Yes, Alex, _always_ for you,” Michael makes his promise and they lean in together, foreheads pressed to seal their promise, Michael’s thumb stroking tenderly against Alex’s cheek as he bows in, letting himself have this one breathless moment of love. 

He's home, now. There’s work to be done, but he’s making a proper home for the both of them and it’s worth every second of it.

* * *

Noah Bracken dies in a tragic car accident in the middle of a lightning storm. 

His car had gone off the road in an extremely similar fashion to the way that Wyatt Long’s had, but what’s strange is that at this sparsely attended funeral, there’s no body in the coffin. Liz sits at the back of the church, watching Michael and Alex whispering to each other frantically, and it tells her that something here didn’t go according to plan.

With all the information that Maria had armed her with, Liz had gone off to do her own research and had come to a very similar conclusion as her best friend.

She’d made the taser a regular item in her purse the same day.

The one thing she can’t figure out is Max and Isobel Evans. They’ve been gone almost as long as Kyle, but she honestly can’t see Michael hurting those two, not with how tight they were in high school. It’s one mystery layered on top of plenty of others, but that’s not what Liz is focused on.

She’s been watching Alex since the funeral service, making up her mind about what she’s going to do. She should keep her nose down and keep researching. She should find some pieces of evidence and maybe some leverage. She should do anything other than what she’s about to, but Liz Ortecho is a woman who takes life by the balls and shakes it until it gives up its pocket change.

Liz needs to see if Alex can be reached, or maybe if she can get through to him. 

Maybe she’s just interested in running an experiment and introducing a new variable – in this case, making the subject aware that it’s being watched. 

“Alex,” Liz steps into his path inside the Wild Pony, preventing him from heading out. Michael is near the exit, but she doesn’t intend to move unless he _makes_ her, not until she’s said what she has to say. “I know what you’re doing. I know that these aren’t just _accidents_. I know something is going on, but you can’t do this.” She fixes her fierce glare on him, watching for some fleck of guilt or regret or _humanity_ behind those cold dark eyes.

Something’s changed, like something in him has died, and it breaks Liz’s heart to see it.

“You should stay out of my way, Liz,” Alex warns coolly, his eyes tracking across the room to the door where he sees Michael, beckoning him over to Alex’s side. As he does that, his gae slides back to Liz.

She shivers at the intensity of it, but also the dispassionate nature that makes it feel like an ice storm has passed over them. 

Once upon a time, Alex had been one of her best friends, but now he’s looking at her like she’s no better than the sleazy assholes who fill up the Pony’s bar seats during happy hour. 

Michael wordlessly drifts into Alex’s arms, kissing his neck and cuddling into Alex’s touch, seeking out praise and reward, which Alex happily gives him as he strokes his palm over Michael’s neck and tangles his fingers through Michael’s hair. It’s clear to Liz that Alex has something that he loves, something that he cares about, and that means that he’s not a completely lost cause. 

“I’m not going to let you get away with this, Alex,” Liz warns. “I know what’s happening and I’m going to prove it to everyone. I’m going to help you by showing you why you can’t do this.” She steadies herself and rises up, full of steel and stubbornness. “And if I can’t help you, then I’m going to stop you.”

Alex fixes her in his sights, in his path, and his gaze is cool and sharp. Michael buries his face against Alex’s shoulder, holding on tight. “Try us,” is his calm warning, before he threads his hand into Michael’s, pulling him away, but there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s just warned her off of him.

It's too bad that Alex doesn’t know how stubbornly fierce Liz Ortecho can be, and it doesn’t matter who he is or how close they used to be.

Alex might think she’s in his path, but he’s in her sights, and she’s not going to back down.

* * *

The water boils as hot as ever, but it’s too late now for Alex.

It’s too late for anyone that dares challenge him, but that doesn’t mean that Liz isn’t going to try.


End file.
